Free Annihilate Me by Christina Ross Page B

keep her in a
bottle to save my life—she always bursts out of it.   I’m surprised she doesn’t swing from
vines.”
    “Excuse
me?” I asked.
    Blackwell
ignored me and gave Lisa a questioning look.   “Are you naturally blonde?”
    “I
am.”
    “Dip
your head.”
    Lisa
shot me an amused glance, and dipped her head.  
    “So
you are.   So rare.   So Scandinavian.   Are you Scandinavian?   No?   Just from Maine?   I see.   Well, regardless, I do have to admit
that I admire your chic ensemble.”
    “I
got it at Macys.”
    “You
got it at what?”
    “Macys.   From the bargain bin.   I think it was something like ninety
percent off, with another five percent off if you had a coupon, which I did.”
    “Coupon?”
    “That’s
right.”
    “Why
am I suddenly faint?   Can you see
the gray edges closing in like I can?   Do you see the demons?   They’re encroaching.”   She
snapped her head at us.   “Don’t you
ever say Macys, coupon or bargain in my presence again.   Understood?   Good.   God!   Do I need to teach you girls
everything?   Apparently.   There are some things you just don’t say
around me or anyone else in this town.   You’ll send everyone whirling.   Already I need something for my acid reflux.   This is going to be a hellish
day—I just know it.”
    “Sorry,
Ms. Blackwell,” I said.
    “I’ve
already told you to call me Barbara.”
    “I
prefer Ms. Blackwell.”
    “Well,”
she said.   “I mean, of course you
do.   I don’t blame you.   It does, after all, suit me.”

 
 
    *   *   *  

 
 
    Later,
in the car, she said, “Where do you want to live?”
    “Close
to Wenn.”
    “That’s
the most sensible thing you’ve said today.   So, Upper East Side?”
    “That
would be perfect.”
    “Where?”
    “On
Fifth?”
    “Really,
Maine.   Fifth?”
    “That’s
right.”
    “Well,
who doesn’t want to live on Fifth?   But you’re lucky.   I’ve got
the place.   To die for.   And with your new salary, you can afford
it.   You will blow kisses at me when
you see it.”
    “We’ll
see.”
    “Oh,
no, Maine.   You’ll be blowing me
kisses straight up my ass.   And
you’ll send me flowers for the privilege of doing so.   You might even invite me to dinner,
though I’d decline in an instant.”
    “Why?”
    “Because
you’d probably serve me something like McDonald’s.   Or you’d ply me with a pizza.   Or some other assorted junk.   You know I don’t approve of eating.   Ever.”
    “Oh,
please.”
    “Oh,
please, yourself.   All one needs is
black coffee, water, ice and a daily vitamin.   Just you wait and see what I have in
store for you two.”   She leaned
toward the driver.   “800 Fifth
Avenue.   STAT!”
    “Do
you think it has Park views?” Lisa asked me.
    I
shrugged.   “Does it, Ms. Blackwell?”
    “Does
it what?”
    “Have
views of the Park.”
    She
looked imperious as she lifted her chin and peered out the window to her
right.   “Park views.   Do you really think I wouldn’t give you Park views?   Do you think so little of me?   Do you think I lack vision?   Common sense?   A goddamned heart?   Of course, you’ll have Park views.   And a hell of a lot more than that.   Just you wait and see.”

 
 
    *   *   *  

 
 
    When
we arrived at 800 Fifth, the driver pulled to the curb, and a valet came
immediately to Blackwell’s door to open it.   The three of us got out and moved onto
the busy sidewalk.   Before we could
enter the building, Blackwell turned each of us around so we were looking
across the street.  
    “There’s
your Park.”
    She
turned us around again so we were facing the building.   “Your apartment is the penthouse.   The one on the left.   Can you see it from here?   Probably not—too bright.   But it’s the thirty-fourth floor.   Gorgeous.”
    “Penthouse?”
Lisa said.
    “Yes,
that’s right.   Penthouse.”
    “I
guess we really are movin’ on